Late Night Double Creature Feature
by Le Penguin
Summary: It wasn't Jamie's fault that late-night cryptozoology documentaries brought up the obvious questions. (Jack/Jamie)


"…So what you're saying is-"

"I'm not saying anything, is what I'm saying."

"But in three hundred years, flying all over the world, you have to have seen _some_ sort of evidence, one way or the other; some sign of-"

Jack sighed explosively and rolled onto his back, flopping out his arms across the comforter.

"Jamie. Cross my heart, if the Loch Ness Monster ever cranes its head out of some murky Scottish lake to curse me out for freezing its home over, I will hop on an express wind-stream back here and you will be the first to know."

"…okay, but researchers are pretty sure that the creature is female-"

Jack grabbed a pillow from the head of the bed and deposited it thoughtfully over his own face. Well. It wasn't Jamie's fault that late-night cryptozoology documentaries brought up the obvious questions; what better way to get answers than when there was an immortal spirit of the air lounging in your dorm-room bed watching along with you?

Jamie examined the last part of that thought, turning it over in his head. The immortal spirit of the air in question was indeed lounging in his dorm-room bed. Quite attractively so, despite the tragic case of pillow-head restricting Jamie's view of his face. Jamie shifted his body closer to press himself against Jack's side, and, after a brief struggle, snatched the pillow away and flung it across the room. Something clattered to the floor, but Jamie couldn't be bothered to inspect the damage when there was Jack Frost to consider: pale hair ruffled against the comforter, dark eyebrows quirked, teeth bared in a grin, eyes lidded and shining and blue, blue, blue.

"The old 'if I can't see you, you can't see me' trick didn't work, huh?" Jack murmured, low.

"Nah," Jamie said, and bent his head to kiss him senseless.

Jack's arms came up around Jamie's shoulders, one hand coming to rest at the back of Jamie's neck, short nails scratching lightly at the skin. The other hand roamed his back, tracing aimless patterns. It brought hazy thoughts to Jamie's mind of Jack's fingers painting ice on windows, blooming flowers in fractals across the glass with a puff of his cool breath. Jamie was shocked out of his reverie by the feel of a cold, bare foot sliding down his naked calf. Jack broke the kiss, laughing.

"Sorry," he said, poking Jamie's shin with his toe. "Chilly feet. Comes with the territory."

Jamie pressed a kiss to Jack's jaw, reaching one hand down to pinch at Jack's ankle. Jack made an indignant noise and tried to wriggle away, but succeeded only in giving Jamie a better angle to rain kisses along the line of his neck.

"Tickling them's not gonna warm them up any, you know," Jack said. The hand on Jamie's back dropped down to play with the hem of his boxers.

Jamie bit down on his lip to suppress the smile at the image. His hand crept back to Jack's foot, fingers tracing lightly along the instep; quite satisfied with the squirm it brought. Jamie shifted himself to a sitting position, kneeling on the bed, Jack's legs bent and feet settled atop Jamie's thighs. So much for not wanting to be tickled, Jamie thought, taking one foot in his hand to study: calloused from his travels around the world, but flexible, and surprisingly soft. Long and slender, like Jack's hands, and cool to the touch like the rest of him. Easily warmed by the dedicated and determined.

"If you're so ticklish, why do you always run around barefoot?"

"M'not that ticklish," Jack said, dismissively.

Jamie ran one finger from ankle to toe, and delighted at their reflexive curl. Jack snorted a laugh and poked Jamie's stomach through his t-shirt.

"Okay, not _that_ ticklish. Shoes are annoying, though. Make me skid around everywhere. Plus," Jack said, looking meaningfully at Jamie's crotch. "You don't seem to mind the nature boy look at all."

"I don't," Jamie agreed, drawing Jack's leg up so he could press a kiss to his ankle. The purr that Jack let out went straight to his cock. Jamie's hands went to the waist of Jack's pants, intending to strip him down, to cover the length of Jack's legs in kisses, to mouth at the soft, pale skin of his thighs. If he sucked, if he bit, would color bloom from that white skin?

Before he could follow through on this plan, Jack's foot traced up the inside of Jamie's thigh. He pressed it to Jamie's crotch, rubbing his cock gently through the cotton fabric. Jamie breathed out a shaky sigh, leaning back on his hands to brace himself – and to get a better view of Jack's foot on him. Well, this was a bit unexpected. Far, far from unwelcome.

"…too cold?" Jack's eyes were locked on his face, searching for any signs of discomfort.

Jamie knew "too cold", at times painfully intimately when it came to sex with Jack. This was not it. "…no."

Jack wriggled his eyebrows at him and slid his other foot underneath the leg of Jamie's boxers. Jamie, for his part, did not need to be told twice. He hurriedly tugged his boxers down and off, kicking them off to fall somewhere to the – somewhere – somewhere, in some distant other universe, Jamie was able to finish that thought, but Jack's feet had slid back into position, and the words drifted from his mind. Chilly feet; come with the territory. They warmed quickly enough against the heat of Jamie's cock. Jamie grasped Jack's ankle as an anchor, groaning thickly as he rubbed against the sole of Jack's foot. His cock bumped against the skin, sliding now, as it grew slick with precome. Jack watched him through his eyelashes.

"…Good?" he asked, breathily.

Jamie wasn't sure that the choked noise he made would be taken as an affirmative, so he nodded his head frantically. Jack grinned, sucking his lip between his teeth. Though he was in no position to do so, Jamie badly wanted to kiss away the little splash of color those teeth brought out.

"Good," Jack sighed. His hand went to his own crotch, squeezing. "Guess you're the…the ticklish one, now, huh?"

Jack unfastened his pants and shoved them off his hips, taking himself in hand to stroke. The line of his hipbones made Jamie's cock throb with need. His heart stuttered an unsteady beat as he watched the curve of Jack's hand around his own cock; squeezing and sliding, thumb rubbing at the dark, slick head eagerly. Jack's toes curled and uncurled, his free foot sliding up and under Jamie's t-shirt, rucking it up to his arms. The cool sudden breath of air raised goosebumps on Jamie's overheated skin – and wasn't that just typical? A little breeze made him shiver, but not the incarnate spirit of winter jacking him off with his feet. Jamie had learned ages ago to stop questioning the bizarre things that happened to him. (_You see, doctor, it all began when I was eight years old, and a rabbit came to life from the ice on my window…_)

Jamie grabbed at Jack's leg, bringing it up and to his mouth again, sucking at the skin of his ankle as he desperately rutted against Jack's foot. One last, tight shudder, and he came, biting down on Jack's skin to muffle his cry. He heard Jack give a strangled noise, saw his back arch into a tight, rigid bow.

Once the world came back into focus, Jamie found himself lying on his back on the bed. He turned his head to the side to see Jack scrubbing at his feet with a handful of tissues plucked from the box on his nightstand. Jack glanced down at him, looking almost frustratingly smug.

Almost. As it stood, it was simply kissably smug.

"So, can I take that as an okay," Jack said, the words broken up by kisses. "To continue to run unshod over hill and dale?"

Jamie could not bring himself to argue.


End file.
